Health

Mental health 'without shame': How Filipino American teens got a program made just for them

Josie Huang is a reporter and Weekend Edition host who spotlights the people and places at the heart of our region.

Published Jul 10, 2024 5:00 AM

Three teenage Filipina American girls stand at the front of the classroom holding pasteboards covered in magazine cut-outs.

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Growing up in Santa Clarita, Ellie Magsaysay was one of the few Asian American kids in her neighborhood, and certainly one of the few Filipino Americans. Some people seemed confused by her background, she said, and assumed she wasn’t Asian.

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Mental health 'without shame': How Filipino American teens got a program made just for them

It’s affected her sense of identity and, at times, her self-esteem. Was being Filipina or having darker skin, she wondered, why boys didn’t seem interested?

“I remember just vividly experiencing not being the ideal type as an Asian and not being an ideal type as a white person or anything else,” Magsaysay said. “It’s like where do you really fit in?”

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It’s one of the questions Magsaysay, an incoming senior, got to explore in a peer-to-peer program promoting mental health awareness among younger Filipino Americans.

Three Filipina American young women — two seated, one standing — look at papers on a folding table.

Over a couple of weeks during the summer, a dozen people met regularly in Historic Filipinotown in a light-filled multipurpose room at Search To Involve Pilipino Americans, which developed the program.

A handful of college-age facilitators trained by the community organization taught eight teenage students about signs of depression and anxiety — and ways to cope through journaling and breathing exercises.

A Filipino American man in a white short-sleeved button down shirt and black pants stands to the side of a Filipino American teenage girl reading from a piece of paper in front of a whiteboard.

But just as Asian Americans are incredibly diverse, so are the mental health needs of different ethnicities. The facilitators made sure to discuss issues familiar to the Filipino diaspora such as colorism and cultural expectations. One exercise had the teens thinking up of comebacks to harmful statements like “I can only be a nurse to be successful.”

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A suggested counter-statement? "I can be an actress to be successful.”

'Not Filipino enough'

The name of the program is called Walang Hiya, which translates to “shameless” or “without shame.”

“What's funny is that the saying in Tagalog is actually kind of derogatory,” said Kevin Sandoval Casasola, youth development coordinator for Search to Involve Pilipino Americans.

The organization, which offers youth leadership training and afterschool programs among its services, created Walang Hiya to help teens who may be struggling with the stress of being bicultural. Three years into running the program and refining it with tweaks, the group hopes to share the curriculum with more Filipino American communities outside of Historic Filipinotown.

A spiral workbook that reads "Walang Hiya: without shame" sits on a table along with several purple pens.

Teens at the Walang Hiya program fill out a workbook that contains exercises on mental health awareness that are also specific to the Filipino American experience.

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Samanta Helou Hernandez

LAist

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A spiral workbook is open to a page with a diagram of a flower and another page entitled "Privilege, Intersectionality, Power and Oppression."

The highly participatory program requires teens to draw from their own experiences in group exercises.

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Samanta Helou Hernandez

LAist

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“We really want to reclaim the notion of living without shame towards mental health, for the experiences we have as Filipinos, Filipino Americans,” Casasola said.

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Casasola says a lot of that shame is rooted in a colonial past. The teens hear about how Spain ruled the Philippines for more than 300 years, followed by a U.S. occupation that lasted nearly 50 years. Western customs and beauty standards took hold. Speaking English was prized.

A close-up of small rocks decorated with sayings like "You Rock!" and images of cartoon characters.

When Filipinos emigrated to the U.S., many didn’t teach Tagalog to their kids. That was Casasola’s experience.

“But you're kind of looked down upon if you don't speak the language,” Casasola said. “We recognize through this program, as students talk to one another, that something that's shared — this feeling of not being Filipino enough.”

Sharing space

Casasola said it’s a commonly-felt sentiment in L.A. County, home to more than 300,000 Filipino Americans. Households can be spread out. Some young people grow up feeling removed from their Filipino heritage.

“Having a space with lots of other Filipino Americans, that's something I haven't really had very much before,” said Tala Ancheta, one of the teen participants.

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Ancheta said speaking about mental health issues with teens from the same background came easily.

Two sheets of paper are hung one on top of the other with a list of "Community Agreements" like "let people finish speaking first."

Posters hung for the Walang Hiya program lay out ground rules for group discussions.

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Samanta Helou Hernandez

LAist

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A poster hung on a glass door reads "It's Okay To Not Be Okay."

The program takes place in a building of the Search to Involve Pilipino Americans in Historic Filipinotown.

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Samanta Helou Hernandez

LAist

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“I want to know what people are going through, or what they could be going through, and how I may be able to help,” Ancheta said.

Her father Mark Ancheta said he and his wife were happy to ferry their daughter from their home in Manhattan Beach to L.A. several times a week because the program teaches teens about mental health through a cultural lens.

A Filipino American teenage girl in a white jean jacket and black tank top smiles for the camera.

Tala Ancheta, 15, says the program has allowed her to share space with other Filipino Americans her age -- something she doesn't get to do often.

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Samanta Helou Hernandez

LAist

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A Filipino American teenage girl in a black t-shirt smiles at the camera.

MJ Manalo, 16, says the Walang Hiya program is teaching her "self-regulation and de-stressing" which will be vital when school starts up again.

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Samanta Helou Hernandez

LAist

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He wants her to be able to articulate her emotions — not to feel pressure to put on outward appearances as they had growing up in their families.

"They boast about success all the time but of course, we're not going to talk about struggles," Mark Ancheta said.

Graduation day

At the end of two weeks together, teens who started out as strangers now have a shared vocabulary about mental health.

On their last day, they each wrote an affirmation to read after they receive a certificate of completion in front of an audience of family members. Ancheta strode to the front of the room to share hers.

“I am extraordinary,” she said to applause while giving herself a hand.

Ellie Magsaysay had written her affirmation in big bold pink letters, underlined for emphasis. She said she better understands how Filipino history has shaped cultural norms. But they don’t define her.